Long Copper Poems
Long Copper Poems. Below are the most popular long Copper by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Copper poems by poem length and keyword.
by Robert(Bob)Moore © 2016
Do you remember Dolly Blue,
Carbolic soap and brownstone too
mam at the copper, stick in hand
to stir the clothes, so they’d look grand
squeeze out the water, through the wringer
be careful though, don’t trap your finger
‘cause that might hurt and make you cry
then hang them on the line to dry
Then came machines, with an agitator
just throw stuff in and come back later
still have to put them through the wringer
that’s still a danger to your finger
Then came spin dryers, they make a din
you just throw all of the wet clothes in
then hang them out upon the line
that’s OK if the weathers fine
Next came the dryer, to make them dry
just flick a switch, and watch them fry
don’t need to hang them out today
so the washerwoman just faded away.
The paint recalls, layered and petulant, groans
mindless in its ground, it decomposes.
Granules of hematite, pale traceries of gypsum,
the crevasses of cave wall are soot soothed.
Layered and petulant the palm of man appears
charcoal dusted, amongst the antelope and bison.
Do you hear the drum’s call, the hollow
wail of bone flute, the slap of bare feet,
the drone of chant?
Red-lead or orange crystalline roars atop
the gummy white in Pharaoh’s tombs.
See the deathly desert and the blood of power
as it paves the way; ochre, gypsum,
copper blue, groan mindless in its ground.
Do you hear the drums call, the hollow
wail of wooden flutes, the rattle of the tambourine
the clink of bell, as bare feet dance entranced?
Decomposed, composed, each grain
calls to mind pale traceries of the ages left behind.
Soot-soothed, charred coal outlines the faces
of God and man upon the walls of time.
First Published by Mused 2013
Everyone Continued Prayer When Will
When will you come and speak
When will you try and be sweet
When will you care
When will you comb your hair
When will you dine
When will you slip
When will you resign
When will you unwind
When will you copper fence
When will you benefit
When will you realign
When will you partake
When will you become great
When will you mortify
When will you apologize
When will you reap what you sow?
When the son comes down
Will you be around
Will you repented
Will you even mention
Will you call on His name
Will you bow down on your knees
Yes you will cause every knee
Shall bow, every tongue confess
What's left
That Jesus is Lord
Father Help Us All
Everyone Continued Prayer When Will
11/06/17
written by James Edward Lee Sr.
hands rapturously slashing satori, bang !
light droplets filter down, bats brushing skin
to fly knowingly low, then water gushed
through cracks, bring —
snakes, spiders, scorpions across our toes
stones spoke in singular sighs as
golden orb set in whirlwinds high
velvet night descends, opposites attract
poles swing — >
cave was nowhere, yet everywhere
Mozart symphonies were future
shadows written on our vacant palms
to sojourn with Harry the Strandloper
was unspoken song by GRACIOUS ALL
for beloved paleo pole points, Call !
Khoisan shores we tread profoundly
adorned with seashell bracelets
before on red concert seats to
sit enraptured, opposites horned
no thoughts tornadoed continents waiting
our ignited centres spaced dichotomy
unnamed species inhabited surrounds
we knew not of wisdom pounds
crystal shafts in dimness protected
our irises reflecting stalactite,
dolomite, Dynamite !
anchovy offering themselves
for hunger appeased
white-black apart yet fulcrum starts
we were Power of One in two
~ seasons our compass
naked emperor with empress embraced
celebration, protection or
fool interventions unknown
variables, not yet defined
contrary poles merging with heather
whispering as copper painted patterns
etheric on grotto’s sotto ~
voices faraway clamped our knees
it was future shackles of Bastille
through time tunnels terrible
vacant minds a pair to stare
simply sky, earth, two lode stars as one
wolves, bears, squirrel frequencies
to dare a similar stare !
womb then lustily grew —
berries, tubers fat ripe
nipples started leaking, crows cackled
she was born in running river, pinking water
cord to trout we fed, who offered us
their firm flesh in turn
clouds melted into navel smooth
moon our compass soon enabled
cavern walls slapping spring to bring
spirit expanded fontanelle
winds chiming bells
hammer forged to chop stone found
swallows still equalled fellow tribes
harmonious cynosures more inscribed
my eyes drew out his to flush awake
nostrils flared flaked, two at stake
slowly malachite dragons dissolved
paleo quintessences evolved
swinging space-time into now
once more polarity’s
sublime ~
___________________
3rd Placement: Premier Contest
Rob Carmack: July 26
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A penny face-up in the gutter—
Abraham’s copper gaze half-lidded with rain.
I pocket him like a secret,
like the first digit in an equation
no one taught me to how to solve.
The laundromat coughs up dimes~
silver cataracts rolled under dryers,
buried beneath lint and lost socks.
I tally them in my palm,
each one a tiny moon
pulled from the tide of neglect.
My grandmother saved buttons in a jar,
swore they were pirate treasure.
I collect coins instead~
nickels in parking lots,
quarters wedged between bus seats,
their edges bitten with teeth marks.
When the year ends,
I spill them all onto the kitchen table~
a metal harvest, a jingling autopsy.
Enough for a coffee,
a lottery ticket,
or the weight of knowing
that fortune isn’t a mountain
but the slow accumulation
of what everyone else
steps over.
Painting: 'Ophelia'
Artist: John Everett Millais
John Millais, today I pose, frozen, just for you -
a blank canvas, your lonely, soul-saddened muse.
Love me with the iridescence of your inspiration.
I am whoever they want me to be -
Beata Beatrix to Dante Rossetti.
But to you I am Ophelia, and we are alone.
Allurement to your compulsion to create and paint,
ever patient, never late, though this ice-shimmery water
slices my nicety, has me tingling hypothermic-faint.
I breathe sleepy, big-bloomed poppies;
purple panicles glitter in my lungs like starburst pinnacles.
Water-mirror reflects back crystalline light, fern-feathered pool.
The flame-copper fronds of my hair
unfurl in your fantasy; my beauty bends like a willow
to softly kiss your canvas, your brush caresses my curves.
I hope your fame remembers my reality
and how my vision camera-caught your creativity.
On glacial, arctic wastes of my wasted mind, blanked by laudanum,
whitened by nauseous opium, colour-clouds burst,
water lilies open starry pink hands in a pool of jewels.
This cold clutch is finally unclenching.
My stillborn child, that crib-cooled one,
light-cradled, thaws the bone-biting chill,
reclaims me from this dream-drowned prismatic pool.
8 July 26
close my eyes and separate
from the vertical vortex of frequency.
unlink my self from man made chain of thought,
stepping back into the void and peering
over what i thought was enlightenment.
fibre optic cables spreads its roots
and plants themselves secure in our mind.
what a hopeful time to be alive.
leery of the divine, frightened by time,
they hold tight to the chains and pull,
exhausting the vessels, contorted
and wrapped in wires of copper.
rainbow roots sprout from the earth,
attaching itself to all that was once holy,
depleting provisions
and replacing it with visions,
binding hope to what consumes us in holy
matrimony.
the barrier between hope and prosperity
is fragility,
a partition of glass reflecting
insecurity,
encouraging our strive for more,
hoping each step will distance us
from detriment of the past,
not realizing what we reach for
is mere glass.
and with your eager and final attempt to grasp,
it shatters,
with every shard destroying all in it’s path.
only then will you realize
none of this lasts.
the future is a gift
only the present can grant.
what will you do with the time
slipping like sand in your hands?
is it fear of death that you run from,
or what comes after?
the silence taunting the crimes of yesterday
to float to the surface
and drown you in
a mess of your own making.
A Quote By: Alfred Lord Tennyson "Deep as first love, and wild as all regret "
The sidewalk crackled with heat but I walked on
towards a summer job of textile and lies
the morning sky was a shade of pennied copper
and the bus, an arrival place beneath the burning sun,
I consigned
and my heart ran
like a boomerang
curving me blind
I gave my heart to him alongside nineteen years of youth
then walked away from my yesterday without a single glance
we were two grown up kids making kids of our very own
but then we fell apart when the lies became uncouth
Deep as first love, and wild as all regret
we soon bled on the table of disconnect
when he cheated, I lost all respect
he traded me in with disparage, for a sassy brunette.
Feb. 29, 2020
I was a teenager when back when, when I first started working in the tape industry. Working in Manhattan traveling from New Jersey either by train, bus or car for seventeen long years. I've learnt the ins and outs from just about every standpoint in the field. Starting from unloading trucks, to customer service, into sales and then eventually becoming an owner of my own company. I sold all different kinds of tapes, from scotch tape (which is actually just a cellophane tape sold by the infamous (3M Co.) to gaffer tape mainly used in the motion picture and television industry. There's a whole world of sticky substances out there that gets applied to some sort of material like cotton, cloth, cellophane, paper, polyester, aluminum, copper and tons of other kinds of foreign substances that can get adhesive applied on to. Almost every business or company uses some sort of tape. So, this is how it all works out in the end. Here I am, now at almost breaking the 65-age mark in life. After all these years of busting my butt and putting in the necessary time to make a living for myself. Well, here comes the ball-buster. Just like that ((SOLD)). The company that I helped build, the company that I grew with for almost 45 years of my life, just like that it's been sold and bought by some low-life never went to college son-of-a rich man idiot that knows nothing about the tape industry other than it is now owned by him. And that now went from being a family owned richly built company into a new family-owned corporate business that's slowly but surely getting rid of all the original employees and replacing them with new family members or part-time workers. In the past 3 years I've seen three companies that I have worked for, for almost 30 years have gone corporate. Two of the three I no longer work for because of the rules and regulations, like over the top insurances, workman's comp./liability insurance and million-dollar coverages on car insurance. It's totally unfair to the small-time companies. Thank goodness I've reached the age of retirement, or I might be working at McDonalds.
they went corporate
so many people suffered
happy to retire
Destined for the dew drenched dawn,
Awaiting alabaster aura, amazing asters,
In every color, crimson and copper, cerulean
Bold, blazing beauties, bringing brilliance,
Stardust silence, soothing sounds, stillness
Come to life on the crazy clasp of craftiness,
Trembling truths, tugging on tomorrow…
Meant for milky way music, melodies, the muse,
Awakening attentions, alive with the awareness,
Today is not the temptation of tantalizing tones,
Burdened by breathless, blistering balances,
Weights warming the wise and wishing wishes,
Insights into inspirations, inviting inklings,
Creativity, crisply clothed in colors of connection,
Flavors filled with feelings, finding forever….
Fated to feel like the focus is on fresh finds,
Dated dreams, destroying the darkness,
Lifting the life so that listening to love lasts,
Beyond the brilliance of bright bouquets,
Into invitations for imagination and intimacy,
Thrilling tired tones from totally losing,
Exhilarating, exciting, enthralling easy lights,
Shadowed by serenity, splashes of seas, sentiments…
Miracles and wonders, wistfully playing wisdoms,
Arriving amid the summer’s ashen dusk,
Captivating creation, casting shadows across colors,
Breathtaking blues who bask in lasting lavenders,
Prayers praising, psalms partaking of promises,
Given to the God loving, glorified givers…
Together, we can find tomorrow and all its tides,
Abiding in amazing suggestions of solace, silent sounds.